Through the Dark, Ancient Whispers
by Snowpoint Cafe
Summary: Essentially, they are wanderers: Steven has no desire to be sole heir of the Devon Corporation, and Cynthia is on the search for the primordial origins of the Universe, including the legendary Azure Flute. Within these two broken individuals, they find a haven that only they can give to each other, one far more burdensome and bound to each other than they had ever thought...
1. Circus Freak Show, I

**Trigger Warnings**: Please be advised that this chapter will contain the following: some nudity, and swearing. Future chapters may contain explicit sexual content, sexual violence, heavy violence and drug abuse among other topics. In the event of more mature themes that require trigger warnings, I will post the warnings accordingly before the chapter for the readers' discretion.

* * *

"You and I, it's as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to earth together, to see if we know what we were taught." — Boris Pasternak, _Doctor Zhivago_

* * *

They were together, lost in time in a place unknown to the rest of the world.

Their clothes laid strewn on the floor in scattered pools, evident remnants of their hurried desire and excitement for each other only a few hours before. The dimming fireplace crackled faintly as small ambers glowed softly against the last of the dying fires. Around in the modest winter cabin, the air was warm, resonating with soft hope and reassurance.

Looking outside through the frosty window, the snowstorm had subsided, revealing an ephemeral halcyon night. Displayed through the window's vision, there were endless mountains which neighbored next to each other, myriads of conifers atop overlaid with heavy snow. Occasional, gelid winds whistled in warning of the next snowstorm to arrive soon, fluttering the loose, opaline snowflakes into perfect dunes as clouds drifted across the sky; the crescent moon above bathed the world below in pale, divine moonlight, bringing about the essence of the fragile, almost unearthly, evening wintertide.

Cynthia laid quietly on top of Steven, her head on his chest near his heart as she slept soundly, her hair cascading over the covering blankets in thick, romantic waves. Her naked body was soft and smooth, a comforting contrast to Steven's own fine, well-built body. Cynthia's right arm curled around Steven, the other arm resting on top of his chest, her left hand placed near Cynthia's head. A brilliant, sparkling object encircled around one of her fingers on this hand; it was an engagement ring, the physical manifestation that declared their bound love for as long as eternity would last until the end of time…

She shifted ever so slightly, moaning as she buried her face deeper into Steven's chest. Her moans were gentle, tender, even melodious, melting Steven's heart to utter awe. He slid a hand through her fine locks of hair, breathing in her feminine scent; she smelled vaguely of a seductive, oriental fragrance… It was a complex perfume that she wore whenever her spirit demanded, Steven remembered, leaving an unforgettable, powerful, almost hypnotic scent to those who smelled her.

He remembered their intimate moments they shared only some time before: the thrilling sounds of craving and arousal as they tore each other's clothes off, the sensation of unclothed bodies touching one another as their mouths met in passion, the ardent kisses that caressed their skin, the burn between their legs soaring beyond their control…

Steven knew he could not ever share these moments with anyone else in the world; Cynthia was the only human in the world to whom he could give himself to fully, the only human to whom he could give not just his strength, but to whom he could open his weaknesses… The golden-haired goddess who laid atop of him was the only one he allowed himself to wholly and sincerely submit to with all intentions and purposes.

He thought to himself over and over: _Cynthia… You are the only one who will ever know me… You are… the only one who can build the safe haven, with no fail, in the hell that I live in… the only one who has made my life easier in front of those struggles, brighter under the perpetual storm… You are my only light in this dark universe… So that I can see there is worth in living after all…_

Steven felt tears emerging from the brim of his eyes; he took a single breath, light so as to not wake her from her slumber. He brought the blankets closer to them over Cynthia's shoulders, as if to seal their warmth from escaping.

_I will never give you up. I will never lose you. No matter what happens to the both of us._

It might have been a reinforcement to ensure that his words would come true; for Steven shifted slightly and softly kissed her head. And perhaps fate might have listened for just a moment…

Cynthia merely shifted once again in her sleep, moaning as she held Steven to her closer than before.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Circus Freak Show**

**Part 1**

* * *

The most recent call with Steven Stone's father, Joseph Stone, was not the most warmly familial one Steven had the pleasure of having. Not that it mattered, for Steven himself was used to this, and he had assumed his father felt the same for the past few years. It was not that their current father-son relationship was on the verge of complete deterioration; no, for at the present, there were still clear signs of respect and acceptance for one another, with sporadic jesting on both ends. Simply put, Joseph Stone was not the kind of father to welcome his son in open, loving arms and pamper him with candid affection and endearment. In the past, there might have been acts of honest compassion and care, though now they were nothing more than distant memories of childhood and youth. As Steven proved to be an individual and a man who could stand on his own, Joseph Stone saw no further need to demonstrate any acts of fatherly love. Steven, after all, was the sole heir to the influential and prominent Devon Corporation, and he himself knew he would have to take over the colossal business himself when the time came. The inheritance of the monolith company would not be effortless, and it required an intensive amount of intellectual and emotional skill to put on a stone-faced demeanor in order to successfully handle the company. Displaying emotions so frankly was exceptionally dangerous to do in the world of business, and both Joseph Stone and Steven knew this very well.

In any case, the subject matter of the call was swift and practical. Joseph Stone told them the task was easy; in fact, it was easy enough for both Steven and Cynthia to quickly toss it on the last minute to their wayfarers' schedules: they were to attend a small dinner party filled with high-profiled business executives and other administrative figures in an exclusive, isolated summer mansion. As Joseph Stone had primarily received the invitation, he declined as his busy schedule left no available time to join the dinner. Having informed the host of the dinner party of the unfortunate circumstance, he said instead that his son, Steven, would go in his place.

Steven himself was briefly primed from his father that the dinner party was not major, and that there were possible prospective business partnerships and deals worthy of considering through. Perhaps, even, there would be an announcement of an official business negotiation to occur, though relievedly it would be done all in private without any of the media to make an irksome outburst about it. Of course, it was mandatory that some representative of the Devon Corporation had to witness which company it was — after all, everyone here at this dinner would be from _some_ superior, global company. The new partnership could end up being more significant than expected, and Joseph Stone was intent on knowing the information. It was also recommended to Steven that he should attend to it immediately, as Joseph had been told that the dinner itself was hastily put together on an abrupt, closer-than-anticipated day. It was why the dinner party itself appeared to have the lack of grandeur and preparation one might have expected from a dinner party in general. Finally, and most importantly, if there were any potential business deals open to the Devon Corporation, Steven would have to report them to his father before any plans of partnership could be conceivably approved.

Indeed, it was easy. At the very least, it sounded easy, so there was no harm in completing this seemingly inconsequential task.

There were some finishing comments thrown in to conclude the conversation: an escort was to accompany both Steven and Cynthia to meet with the host himself, Ryota Takahashi, for a quick brunch, as it was explained. It would merely be a preliminary introduction, Joseph Stone clarified, as Mr. Takahashi was so eager to meet the one and only Steven Stone, the single heir to the Devon Corporation, the Hoenn Champion, the youth everyone envied and wanted to _be_.

Certainly, this task would be very easy to complete.

* * *

The morning sun amiably extended its golden rays of light against the last of the dawn sky, creating sparkling fragments of prismatic rainbows from the blue ocean waves while the air turned mild and temperate; Cynthia leaned forward to the ferry railing, quietly embracing the warm sunlight caressing her face as the wind playfully blew into her lustrous, blond hair. For a moment, time seemed to stand in perpetual stillness as the atmosphere was tranquil and unperturbed. Cynthia sighed once in pure content, all past struggles, strifes, and anxieties temporarily relieved.

Steven stood against the wall, softly gazing at her in silence from behind. For a moment, time and space seemed to stand still; a tumult of conflicted feelings and passions threatened to seize him, his very being, though he promptly suppressed them with a single, inward breath.

"Cynthia," Steven called her name easily as he began walking over to her.

The woman who stood before him simply turned around, giving him wondering eyes in response. Steven, the man who stood before her view, had a kind expression matched with a warm smile, his constantly unkempt hair swaying in the wind.

"I'm sorry to have dragged you here like this."

Cynthia sighed once, quickly brushing her bangs away from her face with a hand before falling back down gracefully over her left eye. "It's not a problem." Cynthia was sympathetic, straightening herself from leaning forward as she gave Steven a gentle smile. "A temporary break like this was probably needed. It helps to step back every once in a while from a journey like ours."

"The sole purpose of this trip is to fulfill my father's request," Steven said with an agitated sigh. "If anything, it comes off as a nuisance."

"Nonetheless, I'm sure it's just a little errand."

"I hope so. Still, I would think that perhaps it would be better to make some more progress on your own research instead of taking care of this."

"I've made significant process. This task is really nothing at all, I'm sure."

The ferry blew out its horn, a single, long note that reverberated through the air. At this, Cynthia and Steven simultaneously looked at each other, before listening to an announcement made by the ferry captain.

"Attention, passengers! We will soon be docking at Resort Area! Please make sure that you have all of your belongings before you leave the ferry. Thank you for riding with us, the Sinnoh Transportation Authorities!"

At this notice, several people began crowding around the exit of the ferry. The two Champions stayed where they were, waiting for the ferry to empty itself of all humans on board first. Thankfully, they had managed to avoid most people on the ferry during the ride, and so there were no encounters with other human beings that ended up in fans screaming and shouting at them. All other human communication, in short, was civil and mannerly.

"Someone's going to wait for us at the dock, right?" Cynthia continued, looking back to Steven. The blonde had vaguely remembered this detail, and only wanted confirmation.

"Yes, it's for a small brunch, though I can't understand why this man apparently can't wait until tonight's dinner. Also unexpected, I know."

Cynthia gave Steven another sympathetic smile. "As we both are aware of quite well, all the world wants to know about you. They'll take whatever opportunity they can to steal a mere glance of you, let alone meet you."

"It seems as though it can't be helped. This was part of the task anyway." Steven shrugged. Indeed, as they had known so very well, Steven Stone was arguably one of the greatest icons to be followed. Being a Champion already came with a massive burden of fame and fortune, though it was doubled by the fact that he was the lone heir of a multi-trillion-dollar corporation; tripled if one took into account of his tremendously handsome looks, and quadrupled if one took into account that he was an intelligent and impressive jack-of-all-trades.

The ferry docked next to a pier, its passengers strolling out below. Steven and Cynthia were the last to board off, giving friendly waves of goodbyes and thanks to the ferry staff before finally arriving at the dock itself.

Had the two been better prepared, they would have gathered up a few accessories in an attempt to disguise themselves from the general public. As events would have it, they both were unprepared, forced to deal with their bare images exposed. Immediately, they were noticed as people huddled together, whispering and pointing to the two Champions. A few people seemed to signal their intentions to take photos, as both Steven and Cynthia noticed cellphones whipped out of their jackets and purses, ineffectively hiding their secrecy so as to not get caught.

Gratefully, before any individual could get a lucky shot of the two, a young girl with several burly bodyguards approached the two Champions. She was an ordinary-looking girl, having mouse-brown hair wrapped neatly into a conventional bun, wearing a conservative attendant's outfit as she held an iPad in one hand. She was flustered to the highest degree, blushing furiously as she prepared for her next words.

"M… Mister Steven Stone?" the girl stuttered. Her trembling was practically visible, her heart beating like a frenzied Butterfree's wings taking flight in the air.

The bodyguards made a small circle around both Champions. Cynthia and Steven gave each other a cautious look, prepared for any possible menace to come.

Steven looked back at the girl, releasing only a half-smile. "That's me."

The girl squeaked, now completely aware of Steven Stone and his famous presence that stood before her.

"I— I am Ryota Takahashi's personal attendant. I've c-come here to escort you to brunch with him at the _Hearthome Brasserie_. Mister Takahashi is… very eager to meet you, Mr. Stone."

"I do hope my companion here is allowed to join me." Steven coolly referenced the blonde standing next to him; Cynthia made no comment, simply watching the scene before her.

"O-Oh! O-of course…" the girl glanced down to the floor, her hands seemingly tied together. Cynthia felt a surge of jealousy emanating from the attendant, but of course, there was no way she could possibly reject Steven's hope that she'd join him. "I, I believe Mister T-Takahashi said something about the… Sinnoh Champion accompanying you, Mister Stone. I… am to do as he likes, as he d-did say that he'd like to meet her a-as well."

"I am grateful," was Steven's composed response.

The girl turned around, ordering a bodyguard to move slightly, muttering some words after into a pager on her wrist. Soon, a sleek black limousine started driving up to the road near the pier. A chauffeur stepped out, making his way to the back as he opened the door. Another limousine followed behind, presumably for the bodyguards, another chauffeur stepping out. The bodyguards stepped aside, making an opening for both Steven and Cynthia to walk through to the limousine.

"M-Mister Stone," the girl stammered, beginning again. "You and your… companion are to ride in this limousine with me. The bodyguards will all be in the other limousine."

Steven nodded, smiling politely as he began walking to the vehicle. As it turned out, even his polite smile was charming enough to dazzle the poor girl. "Much thanks."

Cynthia smiled alongside with him, still saying nothing as she followed after Steven. The girl, in response, could not meet Cynthia's eyes; it was as though she were frustrated and baffled at Cynthia's apparent kindness. There was absolutely no trace of any envy or pride to be found in her expression; only simple respect and acknowledgement for another human being.

The three stepped into the limousine, the chauffeur closing the door afterwards. Soon enough, they began driving away, the two Champions hidden in safety behind the tinted windows of the limousine from the general public.

Both Steven and Cynthia sat with a well-refined position, their legs crossed; Steven leaned his head against the back of the leather seating with crossed arms, Cynthia sitting with an immaculate, straight posture.

"If I may," Steven began, focusing on the girl now. He shot her his signature, winning smile, the one that could melt the hearts of masses. "What is your name?"

Here, Cynthia released a faint smile of amusement. It was an all-too-familiar act Steven was playing.

"I-I'm Elena… Elena L-Lee." She found it difficult to meet Steven's charming gaze, as she stared down to the floor. She did, however, bravely attempt to look at Steven in the eyes, as if to prove that this was just another encounter with an extraordinarily good-looking man, and that Steven was no different from any other them. Yet, as Steven (and Cynthia) already intuitively knew, this endeavored facade crumpled apart too easily, as she gasped once and covered her mouth, lowering her face once more. Cynthia suppressed a full smile, placing a hand to cover her lips.

"Well, then." Steven was nonchalant, adding an irresistible allure to him. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Elena Lee." There was no doubt: Steven was entertained at the girl's nervous behavior. Saying her name only heightened the present drama.

"I… I'm honored…!" Elena squeaked. By now, there was no way she could lift herself to meet the Hoenn Champion's face; everything seemed too much for her hapless heart to bear.

There was a moment of entertaining silence.

Then: "M-may… I ask if…" Elena bit the side of her cheek, stammering out the last of her words, "if… the Sinnoh Champion is… your girlfriend?"

Here, both Steven and Cynthia laughed suddenly; Cynthia, in particular, was not afraid to show her unambiguous amusement from Elena's question, for her laughter rang clear and far more gaudy.

"I am not," Cynthia spoke this time, giving Steven a single glance of mirth quickly after. "Our reasons for traveling together as Pokémon Champions, or rather, Trainers are confidential."

Elena, of course, didn't believe a word that the blonde said. She looked briefly at Steven, as if asking if Cynthia's words were right. Steven showed no mercy, as was evidenced by his sadistic smile, for he merely shrugged offhandedly and agreed with Cynthia. "She's not wrong. Everything she has just said is true."

"O-oh…"

"We've arrived to the _Hearthome Brasserie_," the chauffeur up front said as the limo began slowing down; he had taken Elena's job of announcing their arrival, an inadequate move on the attendant's part.

"O-oh! Yes! I'm so sorry for not announcing that sooner!" Elena brushed her face once, her face still as red as it had been since the beginning of her encounter with Steven.

The chauffeur briskly opened the back door, leading Cynthia out of the limo first, followed by Steven, and finally Elena. Outside, the limo behind had stopped as well, and the bodyguards had lined up neatly for Elena's next orders.

They all stood before a Kalosian-styled street, carrying the chic air reminiscent of quaint cafés found scattered all over Lumiose. Lampposts were placed evenly at every distance, each in front of a voguish shop. The ground was paved with pristine red bricks, with potted plants situated in an orderly fashion, some occasionally next to petite chairs and tables laid out in front of several cafés. It was as pristinely exclusive, prim and fashionable as one might have expected from the Resort Area.

The Hearthome Brasserie itself was a modest chain that began with an aspiring Kalosian chef in Hearthome, and it had ended up becoming a success as one could see now. It was famous for its class and atmosphere of urban finesse, adding in elegant elements of Lumiosian culture topped with the lovely appeal of Hearthome's poise.

Elena walked up to the brasserie, opening the door, implying that Steven and Cynthia walk in before her. She quickly ordered for only a couple of bodyguards to stay with her, as the rest weren't needed, before following in.

It was easy to spot who and where Ryota Takahashi was. Though neither Steven nor Cynthia had ever seen or heard of this man previously, they already to knew that he was a businessman of high power and influence. People like him were simple to point out within a crowd.

He was sitting in one of the far back tables positioned cozily to a corner, his arms sprawled out over two prostitutes. Takahashi was enjoying himself, laughing along next to the gold diggers who giggled gleefully. He was a very common-looking man dressed in a suit and a fedora, with no defining feature that struck him out as remarkable or noteworthy, only given at birth a set of sharp wits to help him become the rich businessman he was now. Plates of half-eaten food and glasses of wine lay placed in front of him, indicating his repugnant gluttony.

Takahashi noticed Steven and Cynthia immediately, and with a single pompous gesture, he invited them all over to his corner. They walked over without any hurry or concern, keeping an indifferent mien.

"Why, if it isn't Steven Stone him_self_! The _one_ and _only_ single heir to the _Devon_ Corporation!" Takahashi's laugh was pretentious, grandiose. "An absolute _honor_ to meet you. And what's this, you have the beautiful and _ravishing_ Cynthia with you! How wonderful. How are the both of you doing today?"

"Mister Ryota Takahashi," Steven said, emphasizing each syllable of his last name as he took a seat across from him. Cynthia followed casually, and Elena nervously stood on the side, ignored by Takahashi.

"Doing well."

"Oh, I'm _fine_, my boy." Takahashi chuckled, calming down his previously boisterous laughter. "And you, my dear Cynthia? I imagine that the _Sinnoh Champion_ feels the same?" Here, he looked at Cynthia, eyeing her with licentious interest. Cynthia kept a calm face, though Steven could see her own eyes revealed tiny hints of utter disgust.

"Likewise, I am doing well."

"Ah, that is good. Very good indeed." Takahashi reached over for his wine of glass, taking a generous sip. "Waitress! Please deliver these two something to drink! What will it be, coffee or tea? How about any food? Surely, you must want something to eat!"

Cynthia gave Steven an unconcerned look, not minding at all about the liquid refreshment or any food.

"Black coffee, then," Steven said to the waitress. She promptly went behind the counter, swiftly attending to his order.

"Oh, no food? It'll be all on me, I promise you. And black coffee? How _daring_!"

"We're simply not hungry."

"Oh, then suit yourself. Fan_tas_tic! Now that our introductions are complete, let's get onto the real discussion here, shall we?"

Steven surveyed the man carefully; Cynthia lowered her eyes, placing a hand under her chin with grace. They prepared for his next statement.

"I call to you early for brunch today to discuss an especially private dealing that I would like to offer to the Devon Corporation."

"And this couldn't wait until tonight's dinner, couldn't it?"

"Well, seeing that tonight will be especially a big event, I'd thought I'd save the drama until then for everyone, you _understand_. Besides, I can hardly contain my excitement as to what I will reveal to _all_ of you. I simply didn't have enough time to make room tonight for our own private discussion."

Steven sighed, irritated by the tone of this man. "Alright. What is it?"

Takahashi lowered his voice, placing an arm on the table. He temporarily let go of the prostitutes hanging around his shoulders, lowering his head as he looked at Steven in the eye. "There's a certain, _rare_ Pokémon that I have in my hands that I'd like to sell to your corporation. It'll be revealed tonight, of course, but I asked you to come now so that you are the only person to know of this before anyone else at the dinner tonight. I think Devon Corporation will find this especially fascinating, you see. This Pokémon is extremely difficult to catch, and it can produce resources that your company would simply _kill_ to have."

"…_Sell_ us a Pokémon?" Steven said incredulously, his eyes piercing directly back into Takahashi's.

Cynthia shifted her eyes over to the conversation, waiting for the next dialogues.

"Oho, my boy!" Takahashi laughed loudly, causing the entire restaurant to look at the table. Then, after mad fits of laughter, he calmed down, the spectators in the restaurant resuming back to their own meals.

Takahashi lowered his voice considerably once more. "You certainly know how to play dumb. Very good."

Steven was not amused, frowning instead.

"Did you know? The dinner party will include various people from a wide number of large corporations, many of them being a Fortune 500 company. But of course, you know this. The Devon Corporation itself… is one of the richest, if not, _the _richest company in the world… making products from Pokéballs to PokéNavs for trainers, and cellphones, and computers for the daily consumer, and rockets for your Mossdeep Space Center… what's next? Inventing an _actual_ Pokémon? I bet you your teams are currently making a new Pokémon as we speak, maybe even more than one! I beg you to tell me more! This is precisely why I am offering you this rare Pokémon to you first, and precisely why we're having this discussion. Admit it, Steven Stone, it will further accelerate your experiments in the Devon Laboratories, to further accelerate your profits. You know it."

"You're very funny, Mr. Takahashi."

"I am not blind to the dark secrets of Devon Corporation, _my boy_."

"I do hope that was a joke."

Here, a silence ensued. The waitress came back over, casually placing down two cups of black coffee in front of Steven and Cynthia. She went away, leaving the table alone.

Then: "Of course, it was! It was all a joke! An old man like me can't have a little fun playing around, can I? As you can see, age hasn't been very kind to me. I'd love to have my youth back…"

"You have my sympathy," Steven said with bitterly wry irony.

"Oho, I am rather pleased to hear that. But you must tell me, how does the offer sound?"

"There is no offer."

"Oh, Mister Steven Stone." Takahashi had an irritatingly mock expression of chastise on his face. "You _do_ know that you will inherit the company one day. I'd expect a little more ambition and lead from someone especially like you. Or wait, perhaps you need your dad's permission! But tell me, do you really need your father's permission? Oh, maybe you are still under the control of your father? Or would you rather take some initiative on your own? Hm? Someone like you must surely understand the value of rebellion when you see that old methods of running a corporation such as Devon no longer works!"

"There is no offer."

"But doesn't the idea sound even remotely tempting? Surely, even a little tiny part of you is delighted by this offer I have just set before you, and you are simply dying to take the offer immediately! I am sure to tell you that this is a splendid deal you will get yourself into, as its longterm effects are not just for my magnificent benefit, but for yours as well! Your_company's_ as well!"

"There. Is. No. Offer." Steven repeated himself again for the third time, glaring sternly into Takahashi's eyes, adamant on his position.

"Aw, that's it?" Takahashi collapsed back in his seat, revealing his unsightly potbelly. His girls didn't mind whatsoever, for they continued giggling, leaning back into him as they gazed admiringly at Steven. "Alright, let's just leave the offer alone for now. What I'm really curious is if you feel that you are worthy of yourself, now that I brought up the mention of your father. You've been pampered your entire life with luxury and comfort, living under the shadow of your father, living with the absence of your mother, and surely, you must _hate_ your father to some degree! You see, not only do I know about those secrets about Devon Corporation, but I know things about _you_."

"You know nothing about me."

"I've done my research long and hard, Steven Stone. How does it feel to be your father's _puppet_? How does it feel to be _controlled_ by a man like him? No, how does it feel to be controlled by the _honor_ and _duty_ you must uphold to your entire Stone bloodline? The lack of free will must be distressing! Oh, but I bet you are embracing it! You must be eager to take control of the Devon Corporation for yourself, so that you can prove that son of a bitch how to _properly_ run a company! So that you can _prove_ that you can do far better things than that father of yours! Yes, maybe you can accept this offer under the table so that your father isn't aware of it! Yes, let's execute this business plan in utmost secrecy! This will be the first step towards your dominance over your father!"

Steven might have been annoyed; if he was, there was no annoyance evident on his face. "Mister Takahashi. My father takes full control of the Devon Corporation. Every decision that we carry out in the name of the corporation must be approved by my father. I have no right to interfere with his authority, nor do I have the right to question his authority as well as his methods of managing the corporation. This is not puppeteering, nor is it any form of control or lack of free will. That should be clear in itself."

Takahashi sneered, a haughty laugh escaping as he was thoroughly amused by Steven's answer. "Of course, _of course_. Still under Daddy's rule, aren't you, _poor baby boy_. It looks like my words couldn't instill any rebellious spark that youths are so famous for having. How disappointing." Here, Takahashi's sneer dropped abruptly to a displeased frown. "How pathetic."

Another silence hung in the air between them. Elena coughed, though it was all ignored.

"Fine, then." Takahashi sighed, reaching for his wallet. He brought out a credit card, and signaled a waitress. "As I was the one who invited you to this brunch, this entire meal is on me. All I'd like in return is for you to keep your deal as your father promised for you and arrive at my mansion tonight at seven-thirty sharp." The businessman took one more indulgent sip of his wine. "You do have a place to stay here? If not, I can arrange a hotel. That'll be on me as well. Believe me, you'll want this offer. I am willing to pay as much as you need now for you to buy this offer."

"A hotel won't be needed."

Cynthia gave Steven a look of question, though he ignored it for the moment.

"Your _girl_ doesn't seem to think so." Takahashi referred to Cynthia, pointing at her with a vulgar, lewd finger.

"A hotel won't be needed."

"Ah, then, _fine_. Elena and the chauffeur will still have to pick you up. After all, my mansion is far from Resort Area. It is no simple walk there. Its location, as you know, is a secret as well. I can't have the public know of this."

"We'll be waiting in front of the Center, then. They can pick us up from there."

Takahashi shot Steven a half-baffled, half-entertained look. "Fine, _fine_. Elena and the chauffeur will meet you at the Pokémon Center at six o' clock sharp." Here, Elena fumbled with her tablet, quickly recording down her boss's command.

"Oh, and do dress up for tonight's event. I'm sure one way or another you two will find dresses appropriate enough, given all the extravagant shops and designer brands here. I insist that you dress your best. I won't have even just pleasant attire; it must be the _best_, understand?"

Steven stood up from his chair, indicating Cynthia to follow him. She followed without hesitation.

"We will excuse ourselves now, Mister Takahashi."

"Oh, but you wouldn't like a ride to anywhere here in Resort Area? Again, all on me."

"No, but thanks for your hospitality."

"Fine, _fine_. I will see you two tonight at my mansion. This will certainly be exciting."

Takahashi's prostitutes blew flirty kisses to Steven, Takahashi himself giving one last ogle to Cynthia. Both ignored them as though they didn't exist, simply walking out of the brasserie with complete impassivity.

"I do hope there is a place we can stay," Cynthia said as soon as they had left the restaurant. The two Champions gave single nods of acknowledgement to the bodyguards as they continued walking down the sidewalk.

"There's no need to worry. But first, before we pay a visit my old villa, I propose we do some quick shopping."

The blonde gave Steven a slight look of surprise. Cynthia had known Steven for long time, longer than one might have expected, and him suddenly suggesting the idea of shopping was an uncommon thing for him to do.

"Tell me, what do you like better? Chanel or Valentino?"

* * *

Their shopping was brief, though the two managed to give way into some self-satisfaction. Cynthia, having a preference for the timeless and elegant womanly sophistication, opted for an entire outfit from Chanel, while Steven chose a classy and crisp suit from the esteemed Armani. Though Cynthia initially planned on paying her Chanel outfit with her own card, Steven insisted that he pay with his own credit card, as this entire nuisance of a dinner party deserved none of her money. All of this, of course, they did among the streets of high-end boutiques in Resort Area.

Occasionally, they turned around as stealthily as they could have; both felt the irksome notion that they were being stalked, most likely by one of Takahashi's cronies, pausing every once in a while to check that they were at a relatively safe and inconspicuous distance away.

It was the late afternoon by the time Steven and Cynthia had finished; the sun was slowly sinking to the west, the sky taking hues of vibrant amber and vermilion as clouds turned rosy pink and lavender.

They had arrived back to Steven's old villa by foot, managing to evade the majority of the public without getting caught together. They couldn't say safely for sure that they were no longer being tracked, though that didn't stop them from continuing on their way. In any case, they were to head to the Pokémon Center soon as six o' clock was nearing; they wouldn't get to stay in the villa for long.

The old villa was lightly dusty, as it had been unvisited for an extended time. The last time he had visited this vacation home had been at least half a decade ago; the house itself experienced periodic visitors from hired caretakers to check that everything was in order, and that there was no sign of unusual activity. Nonetheless, it still gave off the perception of loneliness and vacancy, an unintended eerie and sad consequence that both Champions experienced as they walked in.

"You know, Cynthia," Steven began as he closed the entrance door behind her. Cynthia walked around, taking in the sight of the interior villa architecture. "I've never fully understood what people mean when they say, 'Home Sweet Home.' The safety and comfort that comes with saying the phrase seems like something we both have never had."

Cynthia laughed quietly. "You're telling me. We… lead pretty pathetic lives, don't we…" With this, Cynthia looked to Steven next, revealing only light traces of ruefulness. "Anyplace I can change into these?" She indicated the shopping bags in her hand.

"To your left, there is a single bedroom. You can use it first to change. I'll go afterwards."

"Ah, thanks."

A moment of silence ensued, the shuffling sounds of Cynthia shifting around prominent in the air. Steven took a single sigh, looking to his right, ready to inspect his old villa as he left his own shopping bags in the foyer. He wandered quietly throughout, seeing the old rooms: the kitchen, the dining room (which he had turned into a rock display of sorts, now empty of the most prestigious rocks he had once collected), the living room (which was the only room of traditional use, as it had luxury couches, a television, a stereo system and a piano with music scores placed on top), and the bedroom, its use as conventional as ever. Outside, there was a veranda, a fair-sized jacuzzi towards one direction, closed off with a top cover.

While the villa might have appeared modest and small, it had cost an excessive amount of money; it was situated on a high hill, located along the father ends of Resort Area, away from the busy roads and streets. It overlooked a spectacular view of the mountains beyond in Route 228 as well as the extravagant Ribbon Syndicate, and it had been built by some famous, modern architect who demanded hefty sums for all of his contemporary architecture.

As easing as it was to get reacquainted with this old vacation home, Steven knew he couldn't indulge himself on the sleek splendor of it any longer. Looking around his surroundings one last time, he went to sit down on a sofa, flipping through some of the old magazines lying upon the glass coffee table.

"Cynthia," Steven said almost suddenly, already bored with the magazine in his hands.

"Yes?" she called from one of the bedrooms. The sound of heels clacked against gracefully against the mahogany floor; she must have finished changing.

"What do you think of Takahashi? Care to give an analysis of him, perhaps? You're always spot on when it comes to reading people."

"If you insist," Cynthia replied. "He's a typical, rich businessman. Has no wife or family, having severed ties with all of them somehow. I imagine that it was not very pleasant. Hires expensive whores as we've seen, while owning many properties whether they are residential or not. Ryota Takahashi may not actually be his real name, either. He thinks of himself too highly. As you know, I don't like him."

"Especially in regards to how he looked at you earlier." With this, Steven chuckled, putting down the magazine. "It couldn't be helped, it seemed."

Cynthia's sigh was audible. She was fully aware that her appearance had caused more than enough men to lust after her, but as she was determined not to give into them, she braved on without an external word of complaint.

"Tell me, what exactly does Takahashi do as a businessman? Do you know?" Cynthia asked. "I'm guessing the black market for Pokémon considering what he said earlier today…"

"If I can remember correctly, I think he's mainly in the biotechnology industry for both humans and Pokémon, from what my father told me. His public figure seems relatively safe, though I was given information that he had certain connections to the Rocket Gang a few years back as well. Of course, he's covered up all of those scandals so that the government wouldn't catch him."

"Ah, lest he suffer the same fate that Giovanni and his cronies had. I see."

Cynthia came out now, her hands in her long hair as she twisted it into a single bun on top of her head; in her mouth, her teeth held a black elastic hair-tie. Her bangs hung loosely, softly curving her face as free tendrils dropped from behind. Her black, Chanel dress was simple, yet its simplicity evoked all of the boundless sophistication there was to this woman; it hugged the woman's curves, suggesting her subtle, seductive physique while exposing her collarbone in a delicate, V-shaped opening. She wore transparent black stockings and had on suede stiletto heels, accentuating her shapely legs.

Steven breathed in momentarily, instantly taken in with her appearance. The woman was an absolute stunner, rendering him speechless and paralyzed with awe.

_You are a goddess, an angel who had descended directly from the empyrean… You are before me, my heart, my soul, my very being… How… Why… You, are… too good…_

Cynthia was not oblivious to his astonishment, though she pretended to ignore his surprised reaction as she finished her hair. She had been expecting this kind of reaction from Steven, and truly she was flattered… Then, a surprise hit her herself as she turned her head around: there was a baby grand black piano, its keys open as music scores stacked high to its left.

"… You have a piano here," Cynthia observed, amazed.

Steven smiled, and then it followed with a chuckle. "Yeah. I do. You can play on it, if you'd like. Be my guest."

"Hm…" the blonde was contemplating, though it seemed that she couldn't resist the instrument. "I'm assuming it hasn't been tuned in a while, let alone played in a while, but I haven't touched the piano in so long… And I love… the piano…"

Steven stood up from the sofa, his smile growing warmer. "Here, I'll be a gentleman and give you some time alone. I'll start changing into my own suit now."

Cynthia found herself smiling back, though by the time she had a full smile, Steven had exited the living room. Here, she sat tentatively on the piano bench, her thoughts still debating on whether or not to start playing.

The music began as Steven was in the midst of changing his own clothes; Cynthia was playing what sounded like Chopin… that romantic, operatic composer who's music could move hearts to tears of simultaneous ecstasy and agony… He paused his changing eventually, drawn to her sound, the last article of his clothing — the dinner jacket — hanging from his hand, standing by the bedroom doorway as he listened to her music…

Meanwhile, the blonde herself continued playing; in spite of everything — her rusty piano technique, those few slip-ups, the piano's uncompromising action and tuning, her lyricism shone through, and it radiated brilliantly within the villa. Her facial expression melted into rapture, heavenly bliss; she became, in that moment, the wanderer, the poet, the daydreamer who had found temporary solace.

When she had finished playing, her dancing hands were lifted off the keyboard stage, and she rested them back in her lap. Here, Steven had walked over to her quietly from his bedroom, placing his dinner jacket on a sofa. He watched her, finding the sun's golden rays illuminating Cynthia's face, which reflected like a pristine mirror against the black piano. Steven kneeled down behind her on his knees as she sat still on the piano bench.

There was a bated silence, the sound of anxious breathing heard between the two of them. Cynthia closed her eyes as she felt Steven's arms embrace her, wrapping around her stomach as Steven closed his own eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair. The feeling of Steven's well-built chest met Cynthia's back, and Cynthia's hands were placed on top of Steven's own.

Steven wondered for a moment if he should have kissed her then — he would finish breathing in her hair, and then perhaps lower his head to her neck, caressing her skin with his mouth, giving her a soft kiss. Then maybe, in turn, she would embrace him over the piano bench, and it would lead to a shy, but passionate kiss… warm bodies pressed closer to each other, clothes slightly removed, tempting the act of lovemaking between lovers…

Instead, she whispered softly: "… I have an unpleasant feeling about this Takahashi, Steven."

"… Don't we both," Steven murmured, his eyes focusing on the skin of her neck. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her neck so desperately…

They stayed there momentarily, as though time and space had stopped moving. They almost became figures forever embossed into the air, neither moving…

Cynthia gently moved out of his embrace. The two both sensed a sliver of hesitation from the blonde, but she promptly ignored it, focusing on the issue at hand. But it couldn't be denied: she, too, had wanted the embrace, the kiss…

"Your father said he was in the biotechnology industry," Cynthia continued, standing completely up from the piano bench now. "But… there is something quite uneasy about all of this. This rare Pokémon he mentioned… it could be one of the high-end Pokémon sold in the black market. I'm going to bring my Pokémon with me."

Steven looked at her seriously. "Are you going to bring your entire team?"

Cynthia paused, before shaking her head and nodding. "I am."

"Do you plan on exposing him?"

"Exposing him? … In an ideal world, I would."

Steven chuckled, hints of sadness embedded within. "Ideal world…" Steven stood up from his knees now. It was only now that he noticed Cynthia's height; because of her stilettos, she had gained a few inches, enough for Steven to comfortably kiss her lips without bending down his head too far… Alas, they were not going to kiss now, and he knew this with some regret.

"I'll bring along my entire team as well." Steven brought back his business with a firm voice, knowing fully well that he could not let himself give in to any more romantic desires at the moment. Cynthia shuffled back and forth around the villa, picking up a purse as she gathered her Pokéballs inside it. "There was something very troublesome about him from the start."

"Agreed," Cynthia said, straightening herself, standing elegantly as she waited for Steven.

The two Champions headed for the entrance of the villa, ready to make their way for the Center. Steven quickly slipped into his dinner jacket, giving him his ultimate suave stature.

As Steven was always the gentleman, he let Cynthia out of the villa first, and he followed after her, locking his villa.

* * *

Author's Notes: Greetings, everyone! If you've made it this far, I assume that you've read the entire chapter above. If you have, thank you very much!

Before I say anything else, let me say that this is only part one of a two-part arc that covers what appears to be Steven's conflict, which serves as the plot mechanic that drives the story forward. Of course, I will introduce Cynthia's conflict in the next arc, though I am still writing that as I write this.

I will explain my reasons for writing this, though there are plenty why as I wrote this. To begin with, it was inspired by a lot of elements from the games, especially with the release of OmegaRuby and AlphaSapphire. The Delta Episode in particular was immense and dense with vague ideas and generalizations that spurred many theories from fans online, and I found myself absorbed in many forums and Tumblr blog posts just reading about them, all of which are fascinating and exciting. This helped create a solid background story and personal head-canon for Steven, and I found that Cynthia fit in very, very nicely for various parts of my personal head-canon. In addition, DarkSteelShipping is personally one of my OTPs, a timeless and eternally appealing shipping which never fails to amaze and impress me. Besides that, I want to give an attempt at writing a badass epic where two regional Champions have a chance to save the world from some Armageddon instead of the usual player characters (though I have nothing against that); nonetheless, they are undoubtedly badasses, and I want to put them to use through a fan-fiction. This is the experimental, expanding result which will only continue to evolve as time goes by.

The next chapter will be longer, as this chapter was originally 20,000 words but I had to cut it down so that it would not be such a nasty monster to edit and revise, and so that it wouldn't be intimidating for readers to not read the story. Imagine reading a single chapter with words that long on a computer screen — I think I'll spare people the vexation and difficulty by cutting it into parts. In addition, I will revisit this first part of the chapter again so that I can make sure that I have forced out all errors and potential awkwardness for the readers' leisure in the future. Until then—

—Cosmo | Tuesday, January 27, 2015


	2. Circus Freak Show, II

**Chapter 1 - Circus Freak Show, Part 2**

The two had traveled to the Center in Resort Area by foot and, as a result, had arrived fashionably late. It was inevitable that this delay would make them late to the dinner party as well, though they accepted this fact without any concern.

By the time they had arrived the sun had already set down beyond the West. It was now a deep indigo twilight, a slim streak of pale saffron orange in the faraway horizon. All around Resort Area, the ornate light posts had begun glowing softly with a muted rose gold luminosity, illuminating the settlement's Kalosian architecture with a haunting beauty. There were still few people bustling about in this hour, with pokémon occasionally hopping about besides their masters and mistresses, dashing in and out of boutiques, cafés, and various shops. The amount of people outside was sparse, and Steven and Cynthia blended in well enough not to be picked out by any close person.

Nearby the Center, there was a familiar black limousine parked, easily visible right along the end of the street curb. Elena was standing outside from the side door, looking anxious. She glanced over to the pager on her wrist, fretfully checking the time. As soon as she lifted her head up, however, it went from worry to relief in an instant. From the distance, she saw both Steven and Cynthia heading towards her, and she breathed out a sigh. Then, she straightened herself with a curt expression.

"It was about time that you'd arrive," Elena said as soon as they were right before her, speaking as though she were demonstrating authority. And then, as if directing this towards Steven in a reprimanding voice, she continued, "We'll be late to the dinner party because of your tardiness. Mister Takahashi himself won't be pleased."

With that, Elena opened the side door of the limousine, her face an expression of stiffness and attempted contempt.

Steven and Cynthia briefly shared eye contact, before Steven gestured that Cynthia enter first, to which she obliged without a word. He followed after, but paused before stepping in. Steven turned to face Elena, and directing his eyes into hers, he said with a slightly amused tone, "I think Takahashi won't mind our tardiness. But, the concern is much appreciated. Thank you."

Elena reddened, and could only nod once before following after Steven into the limousine. Her attempt at holding herself with primness and control had failed.

Without any more words, the chauffeur began driving, picking up speed slowly as it drove away from the Center.

* * *

The drive had been long, lasting nearly an hour. At first, they had left Resort Area through a busy freeway, sufficiently camouflaging themselves amidst the numerous, anonymous cars and trucks moving by. As the time drifted, however, the roads taken became more and more esoteric, going from well-travelled, paved highways to crude dirt roads, unknown to and not used by the general public. Eventually, during the final minutes, they found themselves driving alongside a barren dirt path heavily shaded, dense with sierra junipers and tall pine trees. All of the last bars of light in the visible distance were choked away, the path before them only lit by the limousine's bright headlights.

No conversations were made between anyone throughout the entire ride; there had only been silence.

At last, at the end of the road, there stood black iron-wrought gates tied with chains, flanked by artificial stone walls. A paved driveway followed behind the gates to an elaborate Gothic revival manor built of dark wood, its entrance decorated with a nearby small fountain with elegant topiaries and hedges. The entrance itself began with a grandly arched, rounded porch, articulated with stately columns and topped with a high conical roof. There were hardly any lights visible from the outside; only a couple of dim illuminations were apparent through the thickly curtained French windows. A single, lonely turret stood out from the center of the mansion, its silhouette discernable against the soft, pale moonlight. The crescent moon was rising slowly into the night sky now, casting its light against the immaculately trimmed grass and the distant evergreens, revealing the wide sky above. Needless to say, it was a vast estate, perhaps overtly so, a sharp contrast to the apparent wilderness that they had just traversed through.

Most blatantly, Takahashi's mansion was located out in the far hinterlands of Resort Area. As was noted by both Steven and Cynthia, the traveling distance to get to the mansion itself was a traveling distance far enough from seeing any reassuring signs of civilization. This committed isolation gave slight trepidation for the two, though they both held their composure; in spite of whatever was to come, it seemed that there should have been no worry on either of their part.

The chauffeur stopped driving momentarily, and everyone in their silence noted the arrival, albeit being nearly twenty minutes late. Wordlessly, he stepped out of the limo, unchained the gates, and pushed open a gate to one side. Quickly afterwards, he had come back into the limo, and he drove on slowly further inwards to the property.

When they had reached the entrance, Elena stepped out first, holding the door for Steven and Cynthia to exit. The two walked up the stone stairs first, eventually leading to the dark chestnut double doors. Elena followed behind after having closed the limousine door with a satisfying _clack_, and as she strode in front of them, she opened a door. Steven and Cynthia entered inside quietly, the chauffeur driving the limousine to the back of the manor as Elena closed the door. He was to join the rest of Takahashi's staff in a separate room of the mansion, away from the dinner party about to be held.

The manor inside was cold and dark, as though it were an ill-lit altar of an empty, pew-less church. It was unsympathetically lit by the diminishing wax candles placed on candle mounts, feeble flames struggling to hold onto the wicks as they shone their weak light to the surrounding marble pillars and carved Gothic statues. They were poised evenly against walls and corners; there was no sign of electric lighting anywhere around. The quiet steps of shoes against the dark cherry wood echoed were noticeable; Cynthia's stilettos clicked gently and reverberated throughout the tall, soaring architecture of the house. Steven fared better with his stealthy leather dress shoes, though they were still audible to the astute observer.

Elena spoke, her voice quiet as she hung her head down slightly low. "The dining room is this way."

Both Steven and Cynthia nodded in unison, and began following Elena. They walked through a series of rooms, twisting their ways through small libraries ornamented with unread books and living rooms lavishly decorated with gilded furniture and empty fireplaces. It was simple to get lost among the extravagant number of rooms perceptible, for the identical rooms continued on and on to what felt as though there were no end. More so, it was a brazen testament to Takahashi's character: he had amassed all of these imitations in vintage furniture and antique books in vain, and instead of holding the stately image of the humble erudite as he habitually likened himself to, he was in truth just the opposite. Nonetheless, Elena walked on as normally as she had ever been walking with a solid sense of direction.

Soon, the three heard quiet murmurings nearing. Only a living room away, they saw a better-lit room in comparison to the rest of the mansion through a small arched entrance. Elena paused her walking here, moved to the side, and addressed stiffly to both Steven and Cynthia. She lifted an arm, pointing her finger to the room, saying "You're to walk in there. Takahashi is expecting you." She kept her head down, and seemed unable to look up to either Steven or Cynthia any further.

"Thanks," Steven said with a nod, and then smiled, though it was a smile of genuine gratitude. Though he knew this poor girl was hopelessly infatuated with him, and he'd had his trivial fun tormenting the girl, he hoped himself that she would find a brighter future than being stuck as some sad assistant to a pathetic boss. Perhaps, if she got lucky enough in this cruel world, she would even find someone to truly love.

Unfortunately, Elena never looked up to see it. By the time she put her head back up again, Steven had already walked on ahead. Only Cynthia, by catching Elena through the corner of her eye, paused ever so slightly to give Elena a kind smile, as though she recognized the human Elena was and could be, before following behind Steven.

They stepped through the open doorway: in their vision they saw a wide dining room, a high ceiling, and tall arched windows revealing the night sky outside, scarlet velvet curtains bordering the windows and walls. A lofty crystal rococo chandelier hung from above lit exclusively with brand new champagne-colored candles, radiating delicate prismatic sparkles around the room. The long dining table was graced with ivory candles, glasses filled with ruby red wine, breadbaskets, and silver dinnerware. Immediately, almost a dozen other men and women seated in their chairs stopped their murmurings and turned to look at the two newcomers, as if they had rudely intruded on their private party. Some looked at them with contempt, some with amusement, and some with a poker face.

Here, Steven met the eye of a familiar individual: he was sitting in between two others along one side of the dining table, wearing a sleek black business suit, the signature Silph Co. SmartWatch worn on his wrist. He had a well-built and slender physique, with a finely defined face and loose locks of wavy dark hair that fell above the nape of his neck. His dark eyes pierced into Steven's, acknowledgment between them realized, and then looked over to Cynthia with curiosity. She caught his gaze, and returned it only with the slightest of nods.

"Twenty minutes late," Takahashi suddenly chided with mirth, prompting everyone to turn to his direction. He was seated in the center at the end of the table, a roaring fire burning in the fireplace behind him. "Is this _typical_ of representatives for the Devon Corporation?"

"It's an uncomplicated matter of cause and effect, I'm sure you'll understand," was Steven's composed reply. He looked over to the last two empty seats, where Steven and Cynthia's names were embossed in a gold, cursive print on name cards made of heavyweight paper. "We shall get started, I assume. Better to start now than never."

Takahashi smiled broadly, almost eerily. Like the garish showman he was, he spread his arms out wide. "Indeed, now, we _shall_. Please, help yourselves everyone. There is more than enough. Dinner is served!"

Behind Takahashi, from two open doorways next to the fireplace, two silent chefs stepped out in perfect precision, each holding an oversized dish topped with glossy silver domes. As they reached Takahashi, the domes were taken off, revealing classic penne pasta with tomato sauce, sliced meat, and powdered white cheese. They began dispersing the food to different plates starting from Takahashi's end of the table, and Takahashi had only begun talking again once everyone had been served dinner. Everyone looked at it with suspicion.

"Please, eat, everyone. I assure you there is _no_ food poisoning to be found around here. What need is there to be suspicious of?" Takahashi laughed, and picked up his wine glass. "Last time I checked, we are in the young years of the twenty-first century. Not in fifteenth century Europa, where food poisonings are as _rampant_ as plagues. Assassinations are not my forte of business, you're all aware."

At this, previously hesitant dinner guests started picking up their silverware and began eating. Steven and Cynthia, giving each other a look, were among the ones who let the food go untouched, and, as Steven saw from the corner of his eye, that familiar dark figure had let his food go untouched as well. Perhaps, Steven thought, a conversation was due with him.

"Now, as you are all enjoying this, I shall introduce my proposition to all of you." Takahashi paused slightly, his smile held as he swirled his wine glass, and then continued. "As you know, each and every one of you here are present at my request, my invitation. The corporations you all represent are prestigious… esteemed… _global_. You _all _make it to the highest numbers of the Fortune 500 list annually one way or another, a very hard thing to do. You are my connections, and the single deals I make with each and every one of you have benefited us all one way or another. All of my projects, my resources, my _wealth_, essentially… you know of what I can do, and what I have.

"Now, recently as of late…" Takahashi paused again, and laughed to himself. He reached for his wine glass, and took a long sip. "Recently. More like a little over a half a decade, I've been working on a top-secret project of mine. I call all of you here tonight to take a good and long hard look at it."

He set down his wine glass now, and his amused look shifted into abrupt seriousness. With a loud clap of his hands, he called for his assistant. "Elena. The tablet."

The nervous footsteps of Elena were audible, and she arrived from the same entrance Steven and Cynthia had come through. As soon as she was next to Takahashi, she handed him a slim black tablet, and quickly, she disappeared back into the dark rooms, completely out of sight as she had been before. "Have any of you _ventured_ a guess… as to why this mansion is so isolated? So removed from the closest human civilization?"

The reactions were mixed, though no different from what had been displayed when Steven and Cynthia had arrived late: some with contempt, some with amusement, and some with a poker face. Nonetheless, no one had said anything in answer to the question; the expectation was prevalent, and a silence held the air before Takahashi spoke again.

"This top-secret project of mine began roughly half a decade ago. I was traversing alongside the mountains of Route 227, alongside the borders of Stark Mountain. I had gathered a team of top-tier scientists, scientists who had been in the now defunct Rocket Mafia, Magma Gang, and Aqua Gang. And we had all founded together a project that _I_ would fund until its end. You all know that Charon of the Galactic Mafia made a complete fool of himself back around seven years ago by the International Police, trying to capture the magnificent beast of Stark Mountain. Of course, it was all _hush-hushed_, and the media never got a hold of this massive story of those naïve do-gooders and International Police. Well, at least pathetic Charon got out of the way. He never really did any good for the Galactic Mafia."

Takahashi paused for a moment, and turned on the tablet in his hands. He navigated around the home screen, the electric blue screen casting its light on his face. He said his next words almost hesitantly, as if he didn't want to offer is triumph card to the table just yet. And yet:

"Where this Charon fool _failed_, I've _succeeded_."

Without another moment to waste, he pressed a single button, and immediately, a colored hologram of a single monster manifested from a point of the tablet. It glowed of colors shifting between burnt sienna and lava orange like circulating blood, and its metal shells altered from melted to hardened steel simultaneously as though it were a pumping heart.

"I present to you: Heatran, ladies and gentlemen."

A few people displayed signs of interest, though more likely in its entirety, it was merely feigned out of politeness as a front. Still, murmurs quietly spread out. Amongst everyone, their reactions were generally complacent, unimpressed, and some still displayed no sign of a reaction.

"This isn't all, _obviously_. My scientists and I have conducted multiple experiments on it, including how well it resists different kinds of weather and how well it can withstand multiple types of attacks from different monsters, including water-type, ground-type, so on and so forth. We have all conducted these experiments with impressive success; my scientists have written full and comprehensive lab reports on this, as you can imagine." Takahashi paused again, and after a pregnant silence, he released a sinister, toothy smile with his fingers weaved in each others' hands. "The _main_ experiment, however… the experiment that led me to invest my wealth in this monster, that led me to believe its ultimate fortune, is the hope that we can potentially release its _primal reversion_."

"And have you succeeded in finding it? How would such an experiment be conducted? What are your resources?" a sharp woman with glasses spoke, as if to make Takahashi waver in his speech. She directed this statement to him with a distinct death stare. "As well, this monster is under government supervision by the monster rangers who are tasked with guarding over Route 227, is it not?"

Takahashi did not seem to waver from her glaring questions. Instead, as if he had never heard her, he continued with his eerie smile, "My scientists had conceived of many sketches and hypotheses on what its possible physical form could look like, as well its potential _true _power. You know, truly my _top_ scientists are those from the Rocket Mafia. They're the ones who came up with the results, which are as precise and accurate as all of you could ask for. As we all know back in the day, the Rocket Mafia had one of the most, _if _not the most, top facilities in underground monster experimentation, so their resources were of _utmost_ quality. They secretly rivalled those labs in the Unovian States, and of those even in the Eurasian Nations. Ah, _modernization_ is a powerful thing, isn't it? _Anyhoo_, I digress. Moving on.

"Catching this monster was simply a _cakewalk_, to begin with. For the past years that this monster has been in my possession, the government has not suspected me at _all_ of stealing Heatran. And, moreover, there official reports that I have found say that Heatran is now _beyond _the control of the rangers to guard. If you ask them yourselves, their conclusion is that Heatran has simply wandered into depths of the volcano that no human can possibly enter without drowning themselves into lava. In other words, they believe this monster to be safe, having chosen a life of solitude away from solitudes. Ha! Continuing onwards now…

"To achieve primal reversion, as all of you are highly well aware of, the monster itself must absorb the energies of nature _and_ of other monsters to achieve its maximum strength. My team of scientists have gathered a large amount of wild monsters roaming in the local wild, and we have drained every single one of its life energy, its _bioenergy_. With this energy, we have injected it into Heatran in small increments over periods of time. And, what can I say? This monster is a vampire! Its hunger for bioenergy never dies away, it only grows stronger! The scientists have noted its physiological changes, and already tangible alterations in appearance and power have been observed even without its full primal reversion achieved! In fact, I plan to have the scientists pull the trigger tonight: all of you, after this dinner, are to see Heatran's very first primal reversion!"

A collective look of bewilderment and surprise spread throughout the guests, and even those who were formerly and stalwartly stoic could not help but release some expression of interest now.

"Where is this monster you've captured?" another executive spoke up, challenging Takahashi.

"I am going to retort with a question: why do _you_ think this mansion is so isolated? So _removed_ from the closest human civilization? Resort Area is a far hour away. Isn't it obvious by now, ladies and gentlemen?" The businessman released his hands and pointed directly downwards with an index finger, as though he were trying to bore through the dining table and beyond. "My specimen is _directly below our feet_ as I currently speak, and as you currently eat. This experiment is conducted in _utmost_ secrecy. We have this monster in our complete control, and all the equipment we have is guaranteed without _fail_ to keep it in its indestructible glass tank."

Suddenly, Takahashi laughed brazenly, and proceeded to gloat, "We've conducted _so_ many experiments on this monster and have obtained results _unheard_ of. Those ivory tower university scientists have much catching up to do, aha! We all know the scandals _they_ involve themselves in, but they're all so _pathetic_ criminal wannabes, _copycats_. How ironic to say, given that many of you are ivory tower university graduates. After all, look at me: I have no university's degree. I am a successful businessman who has relied upon luck and natural instinct. Though you all might be in a more comfortable and wealthier position than I am in, you all have to admit that what I've made for myself is respectable, _honest_, even. Some of you in this room may even be, dare I say, _jealous_ of me!"

Among the dinner guests, murmurs and whispers were exchanged. Steven and Cynthia only looked at each other in silence, though he could read her expression: this business decision was not Cynthia's to make, it was Steven's. She would not offer her opinion on the obvious deal Takahashi had just quite literally laid out on the table. Meanwhile, Heatran's colorful hologram continued glowing from the tablet in front of Takahashi, almost casting a dangerous, ominous atmosphere throughout the dining room.

Steven glanced around the table furtively, watching the other company representatives discuss quietly among themselves. He looked over to the familiar dark figure again, who only glanced at his smart watch to keep track of the time, and wondered what he could have possibly been thinking at the moment. His expression was difficult to read, but Steven knew him well enough not to expect immediate ease in reading his thoughts and emotions. He was one of the only other people in this world Steven had met who was equally as adept as he was in staging a poker face.

"Now, all of you are intrigued, and highly so." Takahashi looked quite please at the storm he had begun starting. "This monster is now officially in the black market, and you are my VIP clients. I would have not offered such a well-spent evening with you all if this offer were not so worth it. After all, there are _so_ many possible things you can do with this monster. All of your corporations have access to the world's top monster laboratories. You can do as you wish. I only want to get this beast off my hands, for I no longer have use for it. For example, some might want to invest in the possibility of a _mega evolution_, which requires a willing human to… _bond_ with the monster. Or, you may want to invest it for its potential uses as a calamity. You know how the media _loves_ to report on violence all around; wrecking havoc with this beast sounds tempting, no? Or, perhaps a combination of both. All of you corporations are guilty of sinning one way or another. What difference does it make to add one more _calamity_ to your list?

"But, nonethe_less_! I think I've said what I've needed to say. Here are my final words: I know that a good number of you are _interested_ in such a deal. However, as I only have one monster, and _none_ of you are going to share it, I have decided to hold a silent auction. Once we have seen the primal reversion, the bidding will begin in another room of this mansion. It will continue for an hour. The winner at the end will take the monster home. I will ask of nothing else."

Immediately, the familiar dark figure stood up from his seat with an inexplicable smirk, and spoke in his dark bass-baritone voice. "My company has no interest in such an investment, Mr. Takahashi. I'll escort myself out: there shall be no need to get your assistant. However, I bid you and the rest of you all a good evening, and a most successful bidding."

"Ah, so it seems that the Silph Corporation has decided _not_ to partake in our magical spectacle tonight." Takahashi laughed to himself, his sinister and eerie grin now disbelievingly wider than it had been before. "Pity. Shame, really. You'll be missing out on much fun and potential. But then again, it has always seemed like the Silph Corporation has struggled ever since its knotted _scandals_ with the Rocket Mafia, and its rivalry with the Devon Corporation is no better, aha! Playing it safe, so I see. A move to demonstrate your company's weakness, or its power, I wonder? It seems that you haven't even touched your dinner!"

For the second time, Steven made eye contact with him. It was only a short instant in the time and space that he had moved away from the dinner table, but instantly, Steven knew a talk between them would take place, _soon_. Indeed, a conversation was due.

Without uttering another word, the Silph Corporation representative left the dining room, and his footsteps were heard echoing faintly throughout the rooms of the mansion. Meanwhile, the rest of the guests busied among themselves with more whispered discussions, the intrigue now increased. Silph Corporation had, at one point, been the world's most dominant monolith corporation, landing first place in revenue of the Fortune Global 100. They had continuously beat out all of the other intercontinental corporations, from retail to energy to automobiles, until its infamous scandals with the Rocket Mafia caused their corporation to drop ranks below. They were still on the list, and they still made flagrantly excessive amounts of money, but its name seemed to be forever tainted now with their ties to what was had been officially declared by the Japanese government to be the most ignominious of corruptions in all of modern history. The year 2000, the first year of the 21st century, would not begin with a warm, hopeful, prospective glow of faith as was believed and predicted to be for all of Japan. Instead, a dark shadow was cast from Silph Corporation's relations to the notorious Rocket Mafia, its aftermath to linger traumatically in a good deal of ways: psychologically, economically, politically. It seemed now that with the leave of the Silph Corporation representative, the residue of the corporation's injuries was conspicuous.

Takahashi sneered. "Ah, well. It's _their _loss, isn't it. That certainly isn't a question. Poor corporation is so helpless now these days. I believe I was _generous_ in inviting them, but again. _Their_ loss. Would anyone else like to make a comment?"

Here, Takahashi looked at Steven in particular for his reaction. Steven didn't seem to notice that Takahashi had been looking at him; Steven himself was still thinking of the Silph Co. representative. The familiar figure had left now: how would they have their overdue conversation? Quickly, Steven brushed that small matter aside in his mind. One way or another, they would eventually come across each other again. That much, Steven knew, was bound to happen.

Otherwise, Steven himself appeared to be disinterested in the offer Takahashi had laid out on the table as well. What use was another rare monster to the Devon Corporation, after all? Heatran could not prove itself to be a valuable asset to Devon anytime now, from Steven's mind. Joseph Stone had amassed plenty of other resources at his disposal that could do exactly what Takahashi's heatran could do, perhaps even _more_. And at the end of the day anyhow, primal reversions in a specimen like heatran was itself not such a big deal in the longest of runs. Heatran was difficult to obtain, no doubt, but the world had many more heatran hidden all around, in spite of the fact its species was officially considered endangered as its conservation status. The Devon Corporation could easily obtain one for itself if it was necessary to utilize its primal reversion. Devon's scientists would carry out the methods for primal reversion, that much Steven knew. All Takahashi gave the Devon Corporation now was the knowledge that the heatran species had a primal reversion.

Yet while Steven ultimately rejected this business deal, this was still a worthy monster, and if it truly did have a primal reversion, no monster trainer should have been allowed to keep it in their party for battling's sake. After all, it was a volatile organism, and it sounded as though Takahashi's scientists had severely tampered its initially safe physical and mental stabilities into something hazardous and explosive. Heatran, in other words, was now an unpredictable time bomb. Perhaps it was best to leave this ticking time bomb to someone else, and Devon did not need this complication on their hands. If any human dared bond with the monster, not even with the intention of trying to find its hypothetical mega evolution, the chances of the losing their life on the line was quite threateningly high. It would be prudent decision to leave the monster to others.

"You know, Mister Takahashi," Steven began, and then stood up abruptly without warning. Cynthia looked at Steven in mild surprise. "This is truly an impressive offer. But, like our representative from the Silph Corporation, there is no need for my company to invest in a monster such as this one. My partner and I wish you all a good evening, and the best of all wishes for your upcoming auction."

Cynthia stood up now as well, and wordlessly, the two began making their way out of the rooms. Takahashi looked after the leaving pair with shock, and soon, it became clear to Takahashi of the ever-increasing wound that ruthlessly stabbed his pride. Heatran, his paramount trump card, was _rejected_ by the one and only Steven Stone. Takahashi did not hear the growing murmurs and whispers spread amongst his invited dinner guests, for his own thoughts and feelings began to drown out his external surroundings and happenings. How could this have happened? This deal was supposed to be the deal that was to bolster Takahashi up into higher positions of business dealing! Two of his leading corporation clients had just waltzed out of the room with no consideration for his own image! Surely, his captured specimen meant much more to clients now than it had been in the wild? Did they have any idea how much of _his_ wealth and time was spent on this investment?! Takahashi would not be made into a laughingstock, that much, he knew! He would have his eventual revenge on them for gifting him with such an embarrassing event of a dinner party, and this would require the ever-meticulous planning he was so used to. In the meanwhile, he would have to continue this now wretched business, for he was _determined_ to rid this monster off. He no longer had use for it; his scientists had done the job that was necessary.

"It seems, _friends_, that another corporation has decided to not partake in the fun we are to have tonight…" Takahashi said with a bitterly taut expression. "Another loss for another corporation. Opportunities wasted away. I should hope they keep their professional demeanor in that they _won't_ want to come back crawling to my feet begging for this creature, when one of you will already have successfully taken this magnificent beast home tonight."

The last statement soothed Takahashi slightly, like the relieving balm against the child's open gash from running too quickly into the pavement. Yes, he was sure that this event would end up being so successful that both the Silph Corporation and the Devon Corporation would realize their huge mistake: he could already see the potential bribes shouting from the two individuals, faces smeared with desperation and rage for their oh-so-regrettable blunder.

What he did not realize was the absurd delusion he had conjured himself up. Such a mastermind blind to his own possible and evident repercussions could not ever deserve the honorable status of a mastermind.

* * *

"I wonder how it is that while we were escorting ourselves out of that pathetic event of a dinner party that no one came out to bid us adieu," Steven commented, the heavy dark chestnut door closing behind them. "I suppose we shall have to find our own way back to our villa. There seems to be no offer in sending us home."

It did not take long for both Champions to find their way out of the mansion. At the very most, it took no more than a few minutes of meandering through the inane maze of a manor. And, as Steven had mentioned, there was quite simply no one to guide them out. It was strange: didn't Takahashi want to be hospitable for his guests as he had usually been? He usually worked so hard to put in the effort, for he wanted to give off a courtly impression, and servants he hired were no less of a detail to be ignored in making any of his major clients comfortable.

"Your announcement of declining Takahashi's offer was unanticipated, perhaps even more terse than expected." Cynthia glanced over to Steven before stepping down the stairs. "His anger was all the more visible after your declaration there."

"Yes, I'm aware. We arrive twenty minutes late, let Takahashi have his cheerful little speech, and crush his gullible hopes with a flat-out refusal."

The blonde had stopped walking now, watching Steven carefully as he stepped down next to Cynthia. All that was heard between them was the quiet water streaming out of the fountain, as well as the rustling wind that seemed to echo in the distance.

"The truth of the matter is, you wanted to talk to the Silph Corporation representative, no?" Cynthia said discreetly, gently meeting Steven's eyes. "I had almost thought that your sudden announcement of leave was more in hoping to find him instead of rejecting Takahashi's offer. But now, he seems to be nowhere in sight."

There was a minute of silence, and then Steven sighed. "Ah. Yes. Well. That doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon now, does it."

"… That's not all, though. Your Silph friend knew something was up with the deal. He looked like he wanted to escape immediately."

"… What?"

And then, as if to emphasize Cynthia's point, the ground below them suddenly thundered. The two momentarily lost their balance, the minute earthquake having caught them both unexpectedly. The low rumbling sound continued, and both Champions looked at each other wide-eyed, sensing that a calamity had just awakened below them.

Instantly following the occurrence, a mass of horrified human screams and animalistic roars arose from within the mansion. Their wild shrieks and cries reverberated as intensely as possible throughout the entire house, the sounds muffled and restrained from the outside. A large wave of heat spread throughout the air, and an immense ripple of fire seemed to scorch through rooms of the mansion, evidenced by the smoke gusting out of the mansion above.

"Shit," Steven muttered, looking directly at the entrance into the mansion. He thought to himself, _I didn't think the time bomb would go off _now_. That _fool!

Cynthia's blood ran cold. Instinctively, she prepared to reach for a pokéball from within her purse. Quite swiftly, as she had done so, a string of bullets was heard from within, a woman's scream heard. In turn came isolated, random gun shots, firing at an inconsistent pattern, before a sudden bang collided open the double doors of the entrance: a charred human corpse had crashed through and landed before the Champions' eyes. The offensive stench of fresh, thick blood and burning flesh began soaking into the air from within the entrance.

Looking back into the entrance hall, both Champions' saw the previously pristine pillars and statues scorched in pure black. Burn marks and great spatters of blood littered the floor, along with bits and chunks of human bodies: a heap of cleanly-cut human muscle lay at one end, a sliced half of a human hand along another. There were sure to be more dead bodies beyond what currently was before their sight.

Without warning, Steven pushed Cynthia down to the pavement. A knife had glinted briskly in the dark, and Steven had been quick enough to register that it was aiming directly for either of the two. The blonde let out a sharp gasp of surprise as they both collapsed on the ground, Steven on top of Cynthia. The knife propelled squarely into the top of the fountain, digging deep into the stone.

The Champions' attention was brought back again into the entrance. Someone, they could perceive now, had been lingering in the shadows of the mansion. The white hands with bright cherry pink dots coloring the fingertips were conspicuous, a vivid violet telekinesis displaying more throwing knives in its grip. Behind those white hands, a creepy high-pitched laughter emerged, primitive red eyes glaring and harsh against the darkness from within.

"Garchomp! Flamethrower!" Cynthia ordered, and in a billowing, shimmering mist from the opening pokéball, the dragon emerged with a regal cry. Without wasting another moment, a stream of fire was sent bursting through the enemy, and an ungodly screech of pain was heard. The knives scattered in all directions, skittering and sliding on the ground. With just a single aim to its center, the creature had collapsed back into the mansion, now deadly quiet.

Steven and Cynthia cautiously regained their footing, Garchomp on high alert for any more potential enemies.

"Knife-throwing…" Steven remarked with a heavy breath, wildly alarmed, and was prepared to call out his Metagross if needed. His hand reached instinctively behind his back for his pokébelt. "What was that?"

A dense silence followed, blood pounding into the Champions' ears, heartbeats escalating. No one dared move now: everyone held their breath.

"_Target girl! Target girl! Target girl!_" The same creepy high-pitched voice laughed. As swiftly as the wind, the monster now emerged before the three, its body fully in sight. A toothy grin revealing pearly white teeth stretched unnaturally across its porcelain white face, save for the cherry blossom pink that rouged its cheeks. Two black diamonds encapsulating around the red eyes, and dark blue ears shaped like bat wings twitched gleefully with energy on its head. Its outfit revealed a paunchy, blood-gorged body, accented with hardened blue-green veins and pale pink skin. The same dark blue shade covered the jester's feet, the shoe curling upwards.

"Meteor Mash!" Steven ordered as he sent out his Metagross, who rapidly executed Steven's command. Metagross collided itself with the Mr. Mime, an arm punching directly into its chest. Unexpectedly, the strength of the attack pushed out rivulets of blood and bones from the body, effectively killing the creature. Now, another corpse lay disintegrating, thrown back into the mansion's foyer.

"There's more where that came from," Cynthia murmured with a tight breath. "You can't possibly expect this to end now…"

"Dear God…" Steven breathed again. "Is it safe to say there are no survivors?"

"There's only one way to find out…"

* * *

Steven and Cynthia were careful to tread inside the mansion, their trusted partners Garchomp and Metagross following behind warily. They stumbled upon into many more corpses, and found shotguns and assault rifles scattered throughout. Most of the corpses they had stumbled into were in the dining room, and looked as though they had been burned, though there were a few exceptions. In a living room they passed by, a couple of corpses in what must have been immaculate white lab coats looked as though it had been continuously sliced to death (courtesy to the knife-wielding Mr. Mime they had encountered in the beginning). Perhaps they were survivors, for the pistols and rifles were not to be found too far away from their grasps. Alas, death had claimed them before any chance of escape.

"Lord Arceus…" Cynthia breathed, observing the devastated and ruined dining room they had only been in a few moments before. The burned curtains hung limply from the walls and windows, the silverware and food and candles once gracing the dinner table split into shards and ungainly piles of shards and scraps. The table itself broke into large pieces, almost hardly recognizable. The hearth, once holding the roaring fire, was now silent with glowing ambers in the dark, ashes laden throughout. Some fiery maelstrom had swept through, and it came as quickly as it had left.

Suddenly, Garchomp snarled, and Metagross made a low, menacing rumble: from the doors beside the fireplace, more shadowy figures revealed itself. The same primitive red eyes glinted brightly in the darkness of the mansion, and shadowy arms emerged from their golden-bronze coffins. They both hovered in the air ominously, and cackled as their arms extended. An entire feast of human bodies was theirs for the taking: this time, the sumptuous dinner would belong to _them_.

"Flamethrower!" Cynthia ordered, and the dragon complied instantly. The flames scorched the pair of cofagrigus, and they recoiled in pain with vicious hisses.

"Zen Headbutt!" Steven followed after, not allowing the monsters to gain an instant of rest. Without any hesitation, Metagross charged into both cofagrigus, breaking through the walls of fireplace. The ashes sputtered into the air as they fell back, doubly taken by the damage of the physical psychic-type attack. It was difficult to tell whether or not they were dead: all they were aware of was that they had been knocked out before they could cause any more harm.

"Steven, I really don't know if we should go any farther," Cynthia said, looking immediately askance to the direction the cofagrigus had come from. "Only a few minutes of being out of this mansion, and something like _this _happens."

"I understand your fear, Cynthia." Steven remained calm, and stepped forward to examine the fainted cofagrigus. "But I'm not going to abandon this without understanding what has happened, and how this came to be."

"Don't tell me you're doing this for "

"I am _not_ doing this for my father, okay?" Steven bristled slightly, and upon noticing his sudden increase in attitude, he calmed down. "I'm sorry. Please, Cynthia."

"Steven, I'm only reminding you that this is something your father tasked you with. We could have been killed just now, and it's not like it's our first encounter with death! Thank God we got out of there before we could get burned to death! Who knows what's lurking further in there? I doubt there's anyone who's survived this godforsaken massacre!"

"And let the living evidence roam out before someone catches hold of everything here? Before they find out anything about the illegal auction that was to come? This isn't the first time that the Takahashi bastard has used this place for selling his criminal specimens to high-end corporations. For all we know, this mansion is listed under the government's eyes as private property, not for illicit experimenting on monsters! Any evidence that makes it out alive of this place will cause immediate suspicion for the police. There is no need for any of this to be linked back to the Devon Corporation when so much of what we do is already prohibited by law! If none of this had happened, we both could have strolled home in content without any of this linking us back. The monster would have been _their _problem. It is too late to assume we have no part in this damn mess."

Cynthia remained silent, merely leveling her eyes with Steven's.

"Cynthia… Don't worry. We _will_ make it out alive. I'm sorry I have to keep dragging you into these troubles. We'll talk of all this when this is "

The blonde silenced him: she took one step to Steven and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I only wanted to give you a warning. Just a fair warning. Nothing more and nothing less. I also wanted to let you know that I'm looking out for you, and for myself. I trust you in whatever decision you make."

Steven froze momentarily, allowing Cynthia to gaze deeply into his eyes. There, she gave him her look of infinite compassion, her grey eyes soaring into depths and distances beyond what Steven could ever possibly reach. Was she, at the very moment, reading into Steven's own soul? The sins and crimes he had committed of the past? Was she, with her intense eyes, predicting his future, the risings and fallings that he would experience to come?

And then, before he could savor the moment any longer, Cynthia released his shoulders. His heart faltered at what Cynthia had done just now, but he could not allow any more emotion overwhelm him at the moment.

"Are we going to continue?" Cynthia asked quietly. She herself was not aware of what enchantment she had casted him.

Steven breathed resignedly, and prepared himself for his next words. "We have to."

Cynthia looked into his eyes once more, and simply nodded. "Then let's continue."

She shifted her eyes and body away, checking on her Garchomp. After being clear that her dragon was alright, she looked alongside to Steven for his permission to continue walking.

They would get down to the eventual truth of this chaos soon.


End file.
